Old Habits
by and.why.the.hell.not
Summary: John keeps some secrets from Sherlock. One day a figure from his past shows up and starts a manhunt. John is not allowed to talk about some things and lets Sherlock deduce it instead. Then Sherlock gets kidnapped and John comes to the rescue. John is forced to reveal his abilities to Sherlock and fears the reactions he will get from him.
1. The Room Mates

The room mate

Sherlock Holmes and John Watson are roommates for nearly two years now. John Watson came home from war as a wounded doctor with nothing left but his medical and military knowledge and a devastating small salary. He found many things had changed. Both his parents had died while he was gone but it didn´t really bother him. He never had a good relationship with his parents anyway. Especially with his father. His only sister Harry had started drinking again after her girlfriend had left her. John gave up on her after he tried countless times to get her clean and as the doctor that he is he couldn´t watch her destroying everything that was left of her. John was left with nobody. He started having nightmares and his injuries were getting worse every day. His shoulder ached not only in cold weather but nearly every time he moved just an inch and he started limping a view weeks after he got home. Memories of horrific scenes of the war he was not allowed to share with anybody were jumping into his vision every time he closed his eyes. Nothing really happened to him then and he unconsciously started staring at his gun whenever he opened the drawer until he met Sherlock Holmes. A sociopath with an extremely creepy ability to read somebody´s history just by watching him closely. John was fascinated by this man and after this meeting everything changed. John was in action again. Examining crime scenes and corps, running after suspects, dealing with clients and sometimes he had a reason to take his gun out of the drawer again. Sherlock was cold and estimating in the beginning but he changed in the long time they had been working together now. John was silently proud to be someone that important in the detectives life to be able to change him like that. Sherlock was still nothing like an ordinary person though. John wondered how much the consulting detective knew about his roommate and his background considering what he was able to deduce only by seeing somebody´s hands. Not to forget about his brother Microft who was literally the British government and had his eyes and ears everywhere. John thought he would never find out. He was wrong...


	2. The Thunderstorm

The Thunderstorm

They had just solved a double murder in the heart of London when a thunderstorm was suddenly forming over their heads. When they arrived at 221B Baker Street half an hour later they were soaked to the bone. When the thunder had started rolling over them on their way home Sherlock had noticed that John was slightly shivering. This shivering had been getting worse from second to second.

"You alright John? You´re trembling like a leave in a hurricane" he had said without looking at his friend.

"Yeah, yeah I´m fine. Just a little cold and wet. Should have taken an umbrella with me in the morning." John had answered with clenched teeth.

Sherlock had not been able to stop himself from imagining John with his brother´s umbrella and suit walking through the streets and hadn´t been thinking about the shivering any longer but now sitting in his chair he wondered why John still didn´t look very happy. Despite the fact that he was wearing dry clothes now, John still shuddered and had been restlessly wandering through the house. After they got inside he went to his room to change, then he went back to the living room and sat on the chair, soon he stood up and went to the kitchen to make tea and now he was sitting in his chair looking at his tea which was getting cold on the table.

"John, are there any new cases on the website?" Sherlock asked because he started to get bored but mostly because he didn´t like the look on John´s face. John continued looking at his cup without showing any reaction at all. He stared at it as if he was in another world. A clap of thunder boomed through the walls and lightning brightened the room.

"John!" Sherlock said a little bit louder as before now annoyed about his roommates lack of attention but he still got no reaction.

"JOHN!" Sherlock yelled and John jumped. His eyes were flying through the room searching for a not existing deadly enemy until they settled on Sherlock who was still sitting on his sofa, motionless. John´s eyes grew big and he started to apologise.

"Oh sorry, I didn´t...I...ehmm...what were you saying again?" he mumbled sitting down again looking at his fingers and then back at Sherlock.

"Your tea. It is getting cold." Sherlock said despite the fact that he wanted to know about new cases only a few moments before. Now he was concerned about John´s condition instead. Something was definitely off and it was rather interesting to find out about it. John looked down at his cup and picked it up. It was ice cold.

"Yes, ehm... I am going to make a new one. You want some too?" He said standing up and moving in the direction of the kitchen. In this moment lighting filled the room and a loud thunder split the silence only a second afterwards. John, surprised by the loud noise and the light, let go of the cup and held his hands protectively over his head and ears while shrinking together a little bit.

"Fuck" he stated looking at the broken cup on the ground in front of him. The tea was slowly flowing in his direction. He went to the kitchen and got a cloth to clean the mess. When he came back Sherlock was suddenly standing in front of him looking deeply into his eyes.

"Sherlock what...?" John started but was cut off by Sherlock.

"Obviously you are scared by thunder which is normal considering your experiences in war. You had to have some traumatic encounters in Afghanistan. But seeing your reactions right now I would like to get some more data to deduce..."

"Don´t" John looked at him without winking. "Please" he added, suddenly looking very sad and tired. Sherlock had no idea what was going on with John but right now he was feeling ill to know that his roommate was pleading him not to go any further with his deductions. He wanted to know more but right now there was not the right time for it. His face softened.

"OK" he said turning around and getting back to his sofa.

"Thanks" John said quietly. He cleaned the ground and by the time he was going to bed the thunder had stopped and only some raindrops were still falling against the windows.


	3. The Nightmare

The nightmare

John had had nightmares shortly after he got home. That had changed when he had met Sherlock. But right now after the memories turning back into his mind because of this bloody storm he was afraid of going to sleep. He was lying awake for a very long time this night until he slipped into a dream. It started nicely with him being with his best friends Marty and Derek who he was training with in the military. He was chatting with them and they played cards until suddenly blood was dripping onto his deck of cards. John looked up and saw Derek´s head rolling over the table. He had been beheaded with a huge caliber by a man in a dark uniform whose face was hidden by a mask. The man was standing a few meters away from them and held the smoking rifle in his hands. Without looking into John´s direction he lowered the gun and approached Marty who was now lying on the ground crying over his dead friend. John felt as if he was frozen. He couldn´t move, couldn´t speak. He could just watch the killer shorten the distance between him and Marty who was now shivering over his whole body in fear about what was coming. He could hear the footsteps coming into his direction. When the man finally arrived at his target he lifted Marty to his knees and got a large knife from his belt. Marty cried and looked John directly into the eyes, pleading for him to help. In shock John had to watch how Marty´s throat was cut through very very slowly. He could still hear the pained scream of him when he was harshly shaken awake in his bed. At the first moment he had no idea where he was and was wondering when he started crying. Then he saw the walls of his room and a person standing next to his bed. Sherlock had shaken him awake and then moved away from him to not get hit by John who had been shaking and hitting the bed. John stared at Sherlock in silence thinking about what just happened and how to explain himself.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" He asked to evade unpleasant questions by Sherlock.

"You were screaming and..crying. I know that you shouldn´t wake someone in a nightmare but you would have hurt yourself if I wouldn´t have stopped you" Sherlock stated without answering John´s question.

"Sorry..."John started but Sherlock was speaking again without waiting for the apology.

"Don´t be. We can´t control our unconsciousness and therefore we can´t control our dreams" he stated. After a moment of silence he asked

"Who is Marty?". That question surprised John and he sat down on his bedside looking at his hands.

"Marty was a good friend of mine. I met him in the camp in Afghanistan."

"He was killed". It was more a statement than a question.

"Ehm, yes he was killed by a group of rebels right in front of me. They cut his throat." John stood up and stretched his body. Uncomfortable silence.

"I am going to make tea. You want some?" He asked walking to the door.

"Yes, thanks" Sherlock said watching his friend walking down the stairs slightly limping. _There must be more about it than what he is telling me_ he thinks to himself and follows John downstairs.


	4. An Old Friend

An Old Friend

Only a week later Sherlock and John got a call by Lestrade who needed them at a crime scene. In a park in the center of London Sherlock and John approached a small bridge with a lot of policemen beneath it. Lestrade was waiting for them under the bridge standing nearby a corps which was covered by a plastic bag. He looked concerned and puzzled. _Nothing new_ Sherlock thought to himself.

"What do you have for us Lestrade?" Sherlock asked without any greeting and watched the scene around him. Lestrade looked at him, then at John and back at him. _Odd._

"Male, probably 40, clean cut through the throat, no witnesses, a homeless man found him in the morning." He made a pause, looking at John when he continued

"He is probably military and I have reasons to think that you will know who he is John". John was startled by this statement looked at the plastic bag and then stared at Lestrade in confusion.

"Why do you think that John has anything to do with this man?" Sherlock asks Lestrade without waiting for John to comprehend. Lestrade quickly looked in John´s direction to check on him and then knelt down to lift up the plastic bag to show them the body beneath it.

"Oh my god!" John held both his hands in front of his mouth and closed his eyes. He opened them for a second, looked at the body once again, turned around and walked a few meters away from the body only glimpsing at Sherlock´s investigations. Sherlock had watched John´s reaction closely and then studied the body quickly afterwards. It was indeed a man, he guessed 42 years old, with a military uniform. His throat was cut very slowly with a large and very sharp knife. But what was odd about this corps were the cuts on the exposed stomach of the man. They were forming letters which said

 _Never too late my dear doctor Watson._ There were no traces on the body so it must have been cleaned in a very professional way.

"So you do know this man?" Lestrade looked at John already knowing the answer for this question.

"Ehm, yes, that´s Thomas Darwer. I didn´t know that he was coming home so soon. He has a wife and child here in London and was stationed in Afghanistan." His voice broke and he looked at the body once again. Memories of him and Darwer running through a minefield while being attacked by a sniper streaming into his mind. _How was that even possible? How could the killer be still alive and what the hell does he want from him? ...revenge_ , John answered to himself. John looked up into the asking faces of Lestrade and Sherlock who had been looking at him the whole time.

"Sorry, what were you saying?"

"I asked who you think could have done this. It is obviously something personal and the murderer seems to be a professional" Sherlock stated. John knew exactly who had killed Darwer but he also knew that it was not his decision who was allowed to know about it. Fear rose in John. Now Sherlock would experience how damaged he really is. _What will he do when he finds out?_ Sherlock noticed the change in John´s posture. He had straightened his body and was looking at him without any emotion. _Odd._

"I don´t have the permission..." he started "to give any further information about the whole case" a man in a military uniform who had suddenly appeared behind him finished the sentence. A whole bunch of military people surrounded the scene in the fraction of a second.

"Who the hell are you?" Lestrade asked angry watching the people pushing away his policemen.

"My name is of no importance. I am working for the government and I am taking over this investigation" the man stated shifting his attention to John who was standing even straighter as before even though Sherlock thought that that was not possible.

"Captain Watson" the man said and John saluted immediately.

"Present" John answered and the man shortly saluted back and they let their hands fall back to their sides.

"On a word" was the only response John got before the man disappeared with him in tow. Sherlock and Lestrade stood in confusion and soon had to leave the crime scene without any idea what was going on.


	5. Deductions

Deductions

When John got home he was tired and exhausted. He had been talking with the man for hours without any outcome. He was used to being questioned by people who he had no clue about who they were but it never stopped to feel unpleasant and humiliating. When he entered the living room Sherlock was sitting on his sofa waiting for him. John was not in the mood to explain that he was not allowed to talk about anything that just had happened but he didn´t want to walk away from Sherlock either.

"You´re late" Sherlock stated.

"Look Sherlock, as I told you I am not allowed to tell you..." he said but was cut off by Sherlock .

"If you´re not allowed to tell me then allow me to deduce it from you." John was perplex. He always feared what Sherlock was able to deduce about him but he never thought that Sherlock would ask him one day for permission.

"You can deduce somebody only by watching him walk by. I thought you already found out every detail of what was possible about me" John wondered.

"I don´t deduce everybody I come in contact with. I can control who I want to deduce and who not. It would be extremely unadvisable to deduce every person. There is far too much information. I would not be able to delete fast and information would flood my system. When I met you I deduced you only slightly to know enough about you to decide if it was possible for us to share an apartment. People also tend to be scared off by my deductions. But now I would like to know more. Considering that you are not able to tell me, I would like to ask you to just stand still." John had not expected this at all. _As long as I am not telling him anything it should be alright. But what if he finds too much? What if he finds out about even deeper things than this. No matter what, he will find out anyway_ John thinks to himself, straightened his body looked to his feet and then looked at Sherlock again. Sherlock noticed the fear in John´s eyes and the slight tremble going through his whole body. He never deduced John before in that extent because he didn´t want to hurt him or even scare him off. John didn´t say a word but nodded for Sherlock to proceed. John stood very still while Sherlock approached him and then made circles around his body making deductions.

"You are trembling but your left hand is not shaking much more than the rest of your body which means that you are scared but you are used to being in stressing situations like this. You had training in controlling yourself even when others would brake under the pressure. That´s not a normal military drill therefore you must have been in a special group. You have probably been in missions that seemed to be a long shot before considering your mental abilities to go on even when a killer is probably after you and nobody is telling you any details. When I first met you I thought that as the military person that you are, even as a doctor, you would not be able to live together with me. People from the military are used to morality, respect and obedience. Not my best characteristics though. But when you willingly gave me your phone, something personal, without hesitation and when I saw your reaction of me deducing you, which is normally more violent or deterred, I realised what kind of human you really are. You didn´t fit in the normal gap of military persons. You were too peacefully, calm and polite. I thought that you haven´t been in too many encounters and that you therefore were able to restore most of your characteristics but considering your real military past, which has to be much more gruesome and traumatising than I expected, you must have been experiencing violence even before that. I know that you have no contact to your sister anymore and I assume that your parents died while you were in Afghanistan because even if you hadn´t a good relationship with them you would not have broken off the contact completely. Somehow you think that someones parents are a part of a person and that they have to be respected even if they don´t deserve it. I completely disagree and my sample number one is you. Seeing that you have been experiencing violence before the military and that you have been trying to safe your sister even when she gave up on herself I would conclude that your parents, probably mostly your father considering that you hate your second name Hamish that is traditionally the name of a family member, have been hitting you since an early age and that you always stood up for your sister to safe her from punishment by them. That would also explain why you are always talking about your sister in a protective way. I would say that your father didn´t take it very well when his daughter came out as a lesbian and that you were willingly taking the punishment for that." John shifted slightly when Sherlock deduced the last part about him. He knew that he would probably find out but now that he did it felt unpleasant and humiliating. Sherlock couldn´t stop himself from deducing everything he could about his friend and bubbled everything out that he found. Sherlock noticed John´s reaction and went on a bit slower.

"This circumstances deepened your best characteristics like bravery and kindness. You never liked violence and you never wanted to be seen by somebody like you saw your parents because you feared to become like them. It also gave you the ability to resist stress and pain which was helping in the following years in Afghanistan, where you went to help people. Not to kill but to help as a doctor. At least in the beginning. You must have been very good at your job and someone of higher rank recognized you and gave you the opportunity to do even more. They probably send you to the special forces considering their need of medically trained soldiers in every group. I assume that something went wrong one day leaving you with a bullet in your left shoulder followed by you being invalided home." Sherlock stopped his circling around John and stopped in front of him watching him closely.

"By watching your reaction I would say that it is safe for me to say that my deductions were right." John didn´t move an inch but looked Sherlock straight into the eyes. _That´s it. That´s everything Sherlock could possibly find out and hell it was a lot._ John relaxed a little bit and when Sherlock turned around to go to the sofa he went to go to his room and get some sleep. He froze when he suddenly heard Sherlock´s voice again.

"Let me see the scar." Sherlock said.

"Pardon?" John asked, not believing what he just heard.

"Let me see your scar" Sherlock repeated his request which was formulated like a command but sounded more like asking the second time. John didn´t know what to do. He wasn´t going to strip down in front of Sherlock Holmes but a small part of him wanted to know what Sherlock could deduce from his scar. _Sherlock has done thinks like this before. He will find out but is that what I want? It would be nice to have somebody who knows at least something about the things I am not allowed to talk about. But the scar is not the proudest part of my life. Would Sherlock be disgusted by it? There´s only one way to find out_ John thought and slowly turned around and walked back to Sherlock. Sherlock, who was surprised by Johns willingness once again, had thought that the chance of John showing him the scar on his shoulder was nearly impossible. He had even feared that his request would be too much therefore he looked astound when John came back instead of simply saying no while disappearing into his room. Sherlock stood up when John stepped in front of him and turned around. Sherlock was unsure how exactly he was going to do this when John opened the first two buttons of his jacket and let the fabric slide down a little bit. Sherlock reached for the collar and pushed it down carefully until he saw the raw scar tissue that covered Johns left shoulder. Sherlock always thought that it must be a small wound while the damage would be mostly underneath it where the bullet destroyed John´s bones and left the most damage but the scar tissue was nearly 3 times 2cm big. Scared to hurt his friend, Sherlock carefully touched the scar tissue. John, who had not seen this coming, flinched but immediately relaxed when Sherlock who had recognised his reaction, drew back his long and elegant fingers.

"When you said that you were shot in the shoulder I assumed that you got hit in the crossfire but looking at this wound seeing the extent of the scar and the angle of the shooter I would say that you were in a kneeling position while a man, at least bigger than me, stood behind you and directed the shot intentionally at your shoulder, to hurt you but not to kill you." John closed his eyes and exhaled a short breath he didn´t even know he was holding.

"You must have been captured and tortured" Sherlock said in a whisper and carefully lifted the fabric over John´s shoulder with the intention not to hurt his friend. John buttoned his jacket and turned around relieved to see no disgust in Sherlock´s eyes but touched by the sadness he found instead.

"Good night Sherlock" he said turning around again.

"Night John" He heard Sherlock´s quit reply when he climbed the stairs to his room. Sherlock did not sleep that night and thought about the things he just found out. He was relieved to hear nothing from upstairs that would indicate that John was having a nightmare again.


	6. The Final (Part I)

The Final (Part I)

The next day Sherlock was on his way to Mycroft to find out more details about the abduction of John´s team when a black van pulled over and three man with black masks subdued him and send him to sleep with a cloth soaked in chloroform. When he woke up, he found himself in an empty darkened room handcuffed to a pipe at the wall. His vision blurred and his head was pounding unpleasantly. He had no idea how long he had been out. A door opened on the other side of the room and a man, a little bit taller that Sherlock, entered the room. Sherlock recognised a large scar running over his whole face from the bottom left corner to the upper right. The knife that was obviously used had damaged the man´s right eye which was therefore white and dead.

"Finally you are awake my friend, didn´t want you to miss the great final" he said, lowering his voice in the end. He stepped closer and looked Sherlock directly into the eyes, his own ones looking cold and dead.

"The great Sherlock Homes, Consulting Detective and best friend of dear Dr. Watson." He spit out the last and looked disgusted only by the mention of the name.

"Today you will help me to finish something I started a long time ago" he said and fished the cellphone out of Sherlock´s pocked. He knocked against the wall and a man came in carrying a table. He placed the table next to the prisoner and Sherlock was finally able to see what was lying on top of it. He smirked.

"You don´t really think that I would help you in any way when you tortured me" he said grinning in his kidnapper´s direction but his smile faded when he saw the grimace on the man´s face.

"Oh no, I am not going to harm you in any way. These are for my old friend Dr. Watson who will be coming soon and who will also be willingly accepting everything I will do to him...he won´t be pleased though" the man added with an even bigger smile. Fear rose in Sherlock when the man stepped closer again with his phone in his hands. He took a photo of Sherlock with the table beneath it and only seconds later Sherlock could hear the sound of an sent message. Almost immediately the phone rang and the man looked at Sherlock with a played shrug before he answered.

"Helllooo...calm down,calm down my friend, nothing has happened until now. I was just...chatting with your friend here. Would be lovely if you could join us. Let´s say in 15 minutes under the bridge in the park you love to go to in your spare time. Of course only if you can accomplish it, I heard that you are very busy these days...Oh and please don´t bring any other guest, of course I would LOVE to meet your friends from New Scotland Yard but as you will have assumed by now a car will bring you to our actual rendezvous spot...See ya" the man hang up without waiting for a reply and once again grinned at Sherlock.

"Soon you will be reunited with your friend Mr. Holmes...and then we will have our fun together" he said leaving the room and slamming the door shut. Sherlock was nothing left than to watch him leave and hope that he and John would come up with a plan to escape. Exactly 12 minutes and 52 second later the door was reopened. A man was thrown into the room tumbled and fell rolling to the floor. Slowly scrambling to his feet John scanned the room and ended up staring into his roommates eyes across the room. John ran to Sherlock immediately.

"Sherlock are you hurt? Did they do anything to you?" he asked while examining him for wounds.

"I´m fine, John" he said but John didn´t stop looking at him worriedly.

"John I swear I am alright" he added and finally John relaxed a bit. He had been asking himself the whole ride here what he would find when he would finally be reunited with Sherlock again. He was feared to death.

"Has he what he has planned?" he asked Sherlock and frowned when he saw fear in his friend´s inhumanly colourful eyes. Sherlock glimpsed at the table and shuddered by the pictures that formed in his mind.

"That does not matter right now. We have to think about an escape plan." Sherlock said avoiding to tell John what he heard.

John looked around and watched the door while he conjured a hair clip from the inside of his sleeve. He twisted the metal and started opening the handcuffs that strapped Sherlock to the pipe. Only seconds after that Sherlock was free and John put the hair clip back into his jacket.

"I knew that would come in handy" he said with a mild smile and walked to the door.

"Ok, there are four guards outside this door but that is not our problem. We have to trick them to open the door. Any ideas?" he asked looking at his friend. Sherlock thought for a moment and then his face lit up.

The guards outside heard the conversation of their prisoners only muffled but after a while it got louder and louder and soon the were able to hear the two men yelling at each other.

"WHAT DOES THAT MEAN YOU HAVE NO PLAN! IT WAS OBVIOUSELY A TRAP! "

"OF COURSE IT WAS A TRAP BUT I CAME TO SAVE "

"AND HOW ARE YOU GOING TO SAVE ME? WE ARE IN A FUCKING BASEMENT LOCKED UP IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE!"

"SORRY THAT I CAME HERE AS FAST AS I COULD YOU BLOODY BASTARD"

"I DIDN´T ASK YOU TO COME FOR GODS SAKE. THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT"

"MY FAULT! MY FAULT! YOU SON OF A BITCH" The guards heard a loud noise and somebody started screaming in pain. They looked at each other in question. Their boss wouldn´t be that pleased if his prisoners would die before he had his fun with them. When they heard another even louder hit and heard one of the inmates scream

"PLEASE STOP. OH GOD PLEASE STOP" they had enough. Nobody wanted to find out what the boss would do to them if they let someone die. One of them opened the door and they entered the room. One man was unconsciously lying next to the pipe with his hands behind him. He was facing to the wall. The other one stood in front of him and turned around with wild eyes, furiously looking at them. Three guards surrounded the standing man while one of them approached the one lying on the ground. All men were in the room now and far enough away from the door...

As soon as Sherlock saw a shadow rising above him and felt fingers searching for his pulse, he spun catching the man´s arm and pulled himself up in a fragment of a second. He caught the man by surprise and knocked him out with a two punches to the head. When Sherlock turned around to help John with the other guards he was surprised to find his blogger surrounded by either unconscious or groaning men.

"What?" the man in question asked with a smirk. He would have given everything for a camera to safe the look on Sherlock´s face for eternity.

"You didn´t think that I was only acting as a doctor when I operated with the special forces" he added stepping over one of their guards.

"So now you can speak about it" Sherlock said to hide his astonishment about what just happened. Quietly he was annoyed that he didn´t see the doctor in action.

"Well, at the moment I couln´t care less about whether you have permission or not. Let´s get out of here" he said and they walked out of the room. Behind their prison´s door was a long floor which ended in a big and totally white room. Carefully they watched around the corner and found the room empty. They looked at each other and then slowly entered the room. They didn´t see the red light of the sensor that was interrupted by their bodies when they walked in. Subsequently iron railings fell down and they were trapped again. Surprised by the loud noise of the iron hitting the floor the two friends spun around and realised their mistake...


	7. The Final (Part II)

The Final (Part II)

"Damn it" John cursed looking around.

"Show yourself you bloody idiot!" he screamed against the blank walls. Sherlock was not surprised by John´s temper. He always tempted to get angry but right now he could feel that there was more. More behind the anger and more behind the tension.

A door which was hidden in the white wall opened and the man with the scar entered the room slowly clapping his hands.

"Bravo my old friend. I knew you would escape my unfortunately idiotic minions but that was a hell of a show that you gave there." the man stepped closer and John moved to attack him but stopped immediately when he saw the red dots on Sherlock´s head.

"Bloody hell, not this again" Sherlock said noticing the laser pointers too.

"I had something really nice for you, John. Darwer was only the beginning. You should have seen Lopez and Dalton! But this stupid son of a bitch from the government covered everything up and you never received my little text messages so I had to make a even greater move" the man stated. John felt sick. Lopez and Dalton were not the best men he ever knew but they surely didn´t deserve to be killed by this freak. Sherlock saw John´s body tension and therefore hated the man in front of him even more. John was obviously disturbed by the man´s words.

"Nice or little reunion, ins´t it? I specially decorated this room for what is coming next."

"Lovely" Sherlock replied sarcastically.

"Let´s play a game." the man said with a grin.

"Here are the rules: Firstly you Mr. Holmes are not allowed to move or you will get shot by the five snipers above us." he waved his hands in the direction of the ceiling.

"Secondly you my old friend are doing whatever I want you to do " he looked at John in excitement.

"And last but not least you are both not allowed to speak at all time except when you are told so or...well, I think I mentioned the snipers" he finished his explanation with a grin.

"Any questions, alright then let´s start with an easy one." he said without waiting for them to answer.

"John, take off your jacked and your t-shirt." John was surprised by the request and looked startled in Sherlock´s direction.

"Don´t be shy, I am sure that there is nothing to be ashamed of" the man said again and John slowly started unbuttoning. He took off his jacket and then removed his shirt as well revealing his naked torso. His scar had a high contrast to the rest of his skin and was eye-catching. The kidnapper looked at it fascinated and came closer to John.

"I assume you had some helpful items in that jacked as you always did and thought that this was the easiest way to get rid of them. Fortunately it also has the effect that I can have a great look on this beauty here. I was wondering what mark I had left on you. You have not left me without a mark either" he said touching the skin roughly with his fingers. John felt the pain rushing through his shoulder and every part of his body wanted to flinch but he only had to look at Sherlock to know that that was not going to happen. He grimaced in pain but stood still while the man stroke his scar. Sherlock stood still but was furious on the inside. He had played with the idea that this man had shot John considering his size and their hateful relationship to each other but seeing him now touching it and hurting John who was unable to do anything because Sherlock himself was threatened made him sick. He wanted to run to the man and punish him for what he had done and what he is doing right now but that was no possibility. The man broke loose from John´s scar and tapped on a remote control that he had in his pocket. The door opened again and five men came in. They were at least two heads taller than John and surrounded him with a distance of approximately two meters.

"To show your friend here what you are capable of...and by that showing him that you are not who you pretend to be, like I had to find out by myself unfortunately...you will be attacked by my followers here and are allowed to defend yourself." John looked arround in confusion then looked at Sherlock. He had no time to exchange looks with him though because one of the musclebound giants stepped inside the circle and lifted his fists. Sherlock was completely taken aback by the certainty in the kidnappers eyes. He looked at both man in the circle and was entirely sure that the small man with the calm and kind nature would be winning a fight against one of these apes. The giant man swung on of his fists forward aiming directly at Johns face. Sherlock held his breath but was surprised to see John easily evade the punch. The giant tried again and John duck fast enough to evade that punch as well. Sherlock watched frozen while John ducked away and leaped aside without getting hit even once.

"Boring! Show us something. You are not even trying!" the kidnapped said yawning and another man stepped in the circle. Now John had enough, ducked under once again and kicked the first one hard against the shin bone. When the man dropped to his knees he hit his clavicle, shattering the bone into two. Sherlock watched the man crying on the floor. The next man didn´t even look at the one on the floor and attacked John who reacted in a fragment of a second and hit the man off his feet by slamming his on legs against his. The man hit his head on the ground and was lying unconsciously next to John. Now the three remaining men from the circle closed the distance between them and John. John sat up and jumped to his feet watching his surroundings closely. The men attacked all at the same time furiously growling and willing to kill the harmless looking man in their center. John leaped to the man in front of him ducked away and lead the fist that was proposed to smash his head onto the nose of the man behind him. The crack of bone was audible and the man held his nose. Blood was dripping through his fingers. But John had not time to watch the man sink to the ground because there still were two other men. The one whose fist he used to hit the first quickly had him in headlock and held him tight from behind. The other man was running to them. John jumped in the air and hit the running one with every force he could afford in the chest, pressing all air out of the man´s lungs who joined the three men on the ground right away. The last one was still holding John from behind trapping his head between his chest and his right arms, squeezing John´s throat. John used his left hand to push the arm a few inches away from his throat to get some air. He turned his body slightly to the man and lifted his right arm over the man´s shoulder to the right shoulder. He leaned forward, pushed the man down with his right hand an at the same time freed his head with his left hand. The man ended up smashing on the ground. John jumped on top of him and held him in headlock without giving him any chance to free himself. John squeezed, until the man went limb.

All of this happened only in the span of approximately 3 minutes. Sherlock, despite the fact that he was not allowed to speak, was speechless. He had just watched his friend overpower not only one but five men with his bare hands and with not much effort.

John stood up and looked around at the men. Then he looked at Sherlock who was still looking at his friend with wide eyes that showed nothing but confusion. Sherlock realised that John was looking at him sad and he knew what he was thinking. John Watson, his room mate, his best friend, thought that he was afraid of him. That he was disgusted and disappointed by him. But he wasn´t. Sherlock straightened his back, closed his mouth (he had not realised that it was open) and smiled at his friend.

John saw how Sherlock posture changed and it took a load off his mind when he saw the smile on Sherlock´s face. He had always been afraid by the possible reaction of the Consulting Detective and therefore was relieved to see him taking it so well. He almost looked proud. Fortunately their kidnapper had not seen their little eye contact.

"Well, well. That´s what I call a show!" He turned to look at Sherlock who showed no emotion at all in an attempt to hide the supporting look he exchanged with John.

"But that my friend..." the man turned to John again "...was the easy task." Slowly the man who had been unconscious and the one with the broken nose scrambled to their feet.

"I had hoped that at least some of them would survive your little struggle without bigger injuries. This makes the following even more exciting because soon they will get the order to attack you again and I am sure that they are pissed off by now. I only change on rule... _this_ time you are not allowed to defend yourself in any way." Both of his men grinned on that and cracked their knuckles. John frowned in realisation what was going to happen and looked at Sherlock who had the same look on his face.

"It is going to be _awesome!"_ Sherlock´s mind was flooded by possible ways this could end and frustration built up in him when realised that there was no way out. He looked at John and saw something really odd. _He is indeed frightened of what is coming but there is something more. His posture implies that he is hiding something. Of course it is not that obvious to anyone else but I know John. Normally he would stand straight in front of his enemy when threatened, showing no fear at all. But right now he is standing a fraction too much to his right side keeping his hand at his side most of the time. There, his right index finger twitched that leads to the conclusion that he hides something in the pocket of his trousers. It must be something that could safe them considering the effort John puts on hiding it. Presumptively something he took after we got into this room because if not he would have used it before. But what? What could it be? Where did he get it?_ Sherlock played the actions following to their entrance in this room in his head and stopped the moment the man came closely to John and touched his scar. John had flinched at the touch but had not moved in an attempt to save Sherlock from any harm. Their kidnapper had been so distracted by the sight of the scar that he had not felt the slight movement at his jacket pocket. _Brilliant, absolutely brilliant. It was the PHONE. My bloody phone that the man used to decoy John. And now John has it and might have had the chance to contact Lestrade while the bloody idiot in front of him did not notice anything. Unfortunately he had stopped so abruptly that John had no time to put the phone back to his jacket and hid it in his own._ All of this happened rushed through Sherlock´s mind in the split of a second. He would have done anything to know where they were to be able to deduce how long it would take Lestrade to come with backup. John had noticed Sherlock´s look. The ´I-am-deducing-the-hell-out-of-it-look´ that he makes shortly before he is having a breakthrough in a case. John was positive that Sherlock found out about the phone in his pocket and that he had contacted Greg. Now the only thing he could do was to distract the men until help arrived.

"Well, I would say...have fun" their kidnapper said and John´s body tensed. The man who had been unconscious stepped in front of him and hit him hard in the face. John had to fight against his instincts to evade the punch by ducking to the side. Instead he remained in his position and was send down to the ground. The skin above his left eye broke open and blood dripped on the floor.

"Stand up" his beholder ordered and John stood up without effort. The other one of the apes kicked his knee deep into John´s stomach which sent John to the ground once again. He curled himself into a ball, held his arms above his stomach and tried to suck air into his lungs. Sherlock´s mind screamed in horror. He wanted to run to John, he wanted to kick the ape´s ass and by God he wanted to kill the bastard who was standing right in front of him obviously enjoying himself. But he could not do anything at all. _John is strong, he will get through this. Where the hell is Lestrade? Why is he taking so long?_

"Stand up" came the command once again and John stood up. Slowly and clearly with much more effort than by the first time he scrambled to his knees and lifted his body into a standing position, growling on his own movements. John´s breathing was uneven now and Sherlock was convinced that the kick had broken a rib.

"Let´s add a few toys, shall we?" One ape left through the door and appeared only seconds after that with the table from before. He placed it in front of his boss. The man in question thought for a moment and then pointed at a piece of pipe which was picked up by the ape. Sherlock twitched slightly when he watched the pipe being dashed against John´s shin and closed his eyes when he heard the pained scream of his best friend echoing through the room. When he opened his eyes again he saw John lying on the ground shivering in pain. _Lestrade I am going to kill you if you don´t show up any second._

"Stand...up!" This time the man giggled childishly and bend down to John when he didn´t react immediately.

"Stand up or I _will_ kill Sherlock Holmes." And even though Sherlock hadn´t thought it was possible John started to move again. He turned to kneel and tried to stand up but growled in pain when he put pressure on his left leg, falling on the ground again. On the next attempt he knelt again but used only his right leg to stand, his left one hanging useless next to it.

"Good boy!" Sherlock saw how unsteady John was and feared that his friend could collapse any second. The pipe was put on the table and Sherlock expected to see another torture device to be picked up. Instead the psychopath opened a drawer of the table.

"It is quite entertaining to watch but I fear you won´t be able to get up the next time...and I would hate it if I had to kill you without seeing the look on your face when I finally pull the trigger knowing that you could have defeated me." He pulled a gun out of the drawer and went over to John.

"Now the final question...Are you willing to get yourself killed for Sherlock Holmes?" He raised the gun and pointed it at John´s head. John closed his eyes and wavered unsteady on his feet. He would not dare to risk Sherlock´s life by saving his own. There was still a chance that Greg would appear before they could harm Sherlock in any way.

Sherlock´s blood froze in his veins and he wanted to interrupt no matter if he was going to be shot by the snipers but then he noticed it. The red dots that were hovering over his body the whole time. There were 4 of them...now there were 3...2...1...0. John and their kidnappers noticed it too.

"What the hell..."

Sherlock reacted immediately by kicking one of the apes against the knee and sending him to the ground by a hit with his elbow. While doing so he got a glimpse of John who spun around and hit the gun out of his enemy´s hands which sent both men to the ground. Suddenly dozens of policemen stormed the room lead by DI Lestrade. He pointed his gun at the kidnapper who had turned around to the table and had picked up the pipe.

"Hands in the air where I can see them" ordered the detective.

"This was not supposed to happen, John. But this time I am not letting you go" he said lifting the pipe and running to John.

"NO DON`T" Sherlock screamed in panic. In his head he saw pictures of John lying on the ground bleeding from an open skull. But it didn´t happen as he thought it would. In the split of a second John Watson rolled over, fished the gun that was lying only half a meter away from him and shot the man directly between the eyes.. ..


	8. The Aftermath

The Aftermath

The police arrested the remaining criminals while Sherlock ran to John who had let his head fall down on the floor in exhaustion.

"John...John are you going to be aright?" he asked kneeling next to his friend and let out a flattered quick breath when he saw John opening his eyes.

"Mhhh" he grumbled and attempted to sit up, hissing in pain.

"Wait John, I´ve got an ambulance waiting outside. I call them to bring the stretcher" Lestrade said taking out his phone. John lay down again, happy that he would not have to drag himself out of the building.

"How bad is it?" Sherlock asked looking at John´s chest which was still going up and down uneven and then directing his focus on the shin which was covered in blood by now.

John looked up and moved specific body parts flinching at some points.

"At least two broken ribs, bruises over my whole side, possibly a concussion and my shoulder will kill me over the next month." He closed his eyes and tried to move his leg relieved when he found it not broken.

"The leg is going to be fine but I will limb for some time." Sherlock was glad that it was nothing serious and could not keep himself from saying

"Good thing that we have a crook in Baker Street though." John smiled and Sherlock replied with a grin. He kept his position next to John and didn´t leave his side until they got to the ambulance outside. Without loosing sight of John whose wounds were treated in the ambulance – John´s diagnosis from before turned out as right – he went over to Lestrade. He had some things to discuss.

"How did you know?" he asked and Lestrade turned in confusion.

"How did I know what?" he asked.

"The snipers. You knew that you had to take out the snipers to control the situation. John only had seconds to contact you so how did you know? You obviously were aware of the smallest details Furthermore you knew were to find us in the moment you got the message. It took you exactly..." he looked on his watch "...12 minutes and 32 seconds to come here but considering the location of this place and the amount of time that is needed to track a phone you actually should have needed at least two and a half minutes more. By then John would be dead by now." Sherlock rumbled all of this in high speed without taking a single breath. Lestrade took a concerned look at John and then looked Sherlock in the eyes.

"I think we all have the tendency to underestimate John Watson. I also think that you should talk to him about what just happened. You have to hear it from him. I will have to interrogate him later but I am sure that he will not be accused for anything that happened. After all he was defending himself and I think that at some point in the neat future a special unknown man from the military will appear to announce that none of this happened at all." Sherlock was annoyed that Lestrade didn´t want to answer his question but was interrupted by a caravan of black SUVs that surrounded the area. After a short conversation with the nameless man the police was leaving the scene. Sherlock and John, who had refused to go to the hospital, were interrogated and then instructed to never mention the events to anyone. One of the SUVs brought them back to Baker Street.

Sherlock opened the door and stabilised John while they entered the house. He was going to be fine but he was too unsteady on his feet to walk alone. Mrs. had heard the door and came into the floor.

"Oh God, what happened to you two?" she said looking at John and hold her hand above her mouth when she saw John´s leg.

"It´s alright Mrs. Hudson, I´m going to be fine?" John gently said and steadied himself a little bit.

"Mrs. Hudson would you mind to get some aspirin from your stock? I am afraid that we don´t have any in 221B after my last experiment" Sherlock said while helping John upstairs; with some effort. John growled but after the figured out the best way they ended up in their living room. Sherlock guided John to his chair and then sat down on the sofa opposite to John. He did not say a word and simply looked John in the face while Mrs. Hudson appeared and gave John the pill and some water.

"Ok, you´ve got questions" John stated after Mrs. Hudson had left.

"Yes...who was the man with the scar? He was obviously someone from your past who was pissed off by something you did. It probably has something to do with the captivity in Afghanistan that you were not allowed to tell me about but since I appear to also be not allowed to talk about certain actions of this night I believe that that has changed" Sherlock said without any move.

"Yes, you are quite right. I think that you deserve to know the circumstances that let to these actions and I am willing to tell you." John said down more comfortable and went on.

"The man was a previous member of my team in the special forces going by the name Edward Roberts. After a view months of our cooperation our missions started to fail with increasing frequency we started suspecting that one of our own had changed sides...and we were proven right. One day we had the mission to charge the base of a group of rebels but we were running directly into a trap. Six of us died and the remaining four were held captives. Including me. It turned out that only five men had died and that the sixth was the mole...Edward Roberts. We were tortured...not for any reason...just for... _fun_ ." John´s focus deviated, not seeing Sherlock anymore. Sherlock noticed that John was looking at something far away when he continued.

"Roberts knew how to use fear and hope. I was the doctor and therefore I was useful for them. They hurt my friends and then left me with them to fix it. He knew that it would restore hope in us that at some point someone could come and save us. It made it more entertaining for them. From time to time I was forced to patch up some of the rebels, too. On these occasions I was able to map the ruin we were in and I also picked up some items that were really helpful for us in the end. I was able to steel a field telephone but it had no service where we were. I stole a coin from an injured rebel, too. Then I made a plan. The other three were wounded but able to flee if they had a chance to escape the cell. The next time I was taken to operate on one of their own I planted the coin in the lock of the door and left with the men. My friends were then able to open the door and escaped. Before anyone noticed their escape they were far enough away." Sherlock hadn´t interrupted John in his storytelling and had focused on every word he said.

"You risked your life to save your friends. That sounds like the John Watson I know. What happened then?" he asked.

"I know that you already figured it out" John simply answered and looked at Sherlock.

"Roberts found out about your plan far too late and was furious. He attacked you and you defended yourself by slicing his face with the operating instruments that you had used before. Obviously your friends had been able to get a connection with the phone you stole and had send help otherwise you would never have left Afghanistan alive. Everyone who had been available was sent to your location and before Roberts could do anything he and his men were surrounded by soldiers. Then he shot you in the shoulder. He did not want to kill you, he wanted to hurt you and then have fun with you later because he was a psychopath. It would have been to easy just to kill you... You were sent home and he was imprisoned somewhere and then got out at some point. The government covered all of this up in order to keep their weaknesses private. And you were not able to tell anyone about your experiences and a part of you always feared that Roberts could come back." Sherlock felt sorry for John but was also fascinated by his bravery and courage.

"Yes, until now. And it feels extremely odd...but in a good way."John admitted.

"It is actually nice to have someone who knows the truth." He smiled at Sherlock and his friend smiled back at him.

"There is one question I have left" Sherlock asked and John tilted his head in question.

"What exactly did you text Lestrade? He knew exactly what was going on and you had only seconds to explain the situation." John smiled, took his phone out of his pocket and threw it over to Sherlock who caught it on reflex. While John stood up and limped to the kitchen to make tee Sherlock unlocked his phone – the password is far too obvious – and opened the text message John had sent.

 **KNPed, WWst 12, TGG**

Sherlock was confused and wondered how Lestrade could know what that mend.

"You don´t understand it, right?" John´s voice came out of the kitchen.

"It says ´kidnapped, Wormwood Street 12`. Obviously you remembered the turns the car made when you were brought to me and therefore knew where you were – something you learned from me by the way – but what does TGG mean?" Sherlock asked confused.

"You really should read my blog. Almost everyone in the police station knows it. Lestrade and I have talked about the fact that some people like to shorten the titles lately...The Blind Banker is TBB, The Sign of Three is TST and The Great Game is..."

"TGG. Brilliant! You told Lestrade about the snipers by reminding him about the quite similar situation at the pool." John came back and brought the tea. Together they sat in their living room and enjoyed the pleasures of a good tea. _I should read the blog some time._ Sherlock noted for himself.


End file.
